It Burns a Lovely Light (28 page)

Claire chuckled. "I still remember the feeling I got the moment you were born. I was in my office at the library. All of a sudden, an overwhelming sense of elation came over me. Your mother was more than a
thousand miles away, but I knew you were born before the phone ever rang."

"Did you have one of those instincts when she died?"

Claire wrinkled her forehead, searching for words. "I
woke up feeling...empty. Lonely. It never occurred to me to apply those feelings to Pauline. We had each other; we could never be lonely." She tweaked Farley's blanket-covered foot. "That's how I know your mother
loved you every day of her life. I
felt
it. So please, don't let her entire life be defined by one final, impulsive act."

Certain they would have approved, Farley sold her father's
gold West Point ring, along with her mother's wedding ring, engagement ring, and diamond hair clip to a reputable jeweler in Squirrel Hill. She emptied her savings account and removed all but two hundred dollars from her checking account. Then she cancelled her order for William's new furniture and the fancy
security system.

"They say a dog is the best security, anyway," she said, sliding a check across the table.

"This is a lot of money, lovey." Veda Marie's eyes
were moist. "Are you sure about this?"

Farley looked around the old kitchen. The photo of her mother, Claire, and Veda Marie in their work clothes. William's chalk drawings, still on the 'to do' board. Last year's hockey schedule. The large gas stove,
where she loved to watch Henry work his magic. The massive table, where dinner was served each night at seven sharp. Where they all gathered; a family.

She imagined Abigail at the window, gathering her strength
to walk into the river. Grandfather, stomping around in his grief. Pauline - a child, herself - nurturing her abandoned baby brother. And Claire, the
other
twin. Claire, who took in two lost, grieving souls and gave them a home.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

Everyone gave what they could. Henry cashed in savings bonds. Joe emptied his bank account. Dion gave what was clearly her next
semester's tuition - although she swore it wasn't. Mr. Winston liquidated his IBM stock. Resa contributed two and a half large jars of quarters.

"I'll have more when my classes start up again,"
she said, shivering. The heat had been lowered to cut down on the heating bills.

Veda Marie's cigarette bounced in her lips as she added up the money.

"Let's get this show in the road," said Mr.
Winston. "Claire will be back any minute."

"No, I'm picking her up at the hospital," said Joe. "I told her to call when she's ready."

Veda Marie circled the total and tapped it with her pencil.

Henry scrubbed his face with his hands. "We're still thirty-seven thousand short."

"We'll sell the car," said Joe.

"Actually, we made it." Veda Marie pulled a
crumpled check from her pocket and smoothed it out on the table. The check was for forty thousand dollars.

Farley cleared her throat. "Veda Marie, what have you done?"

She stubbed out her cigarette. "Pull your minds out of
the gutter, people. I merely called in an IOU from my gambling days."

"I thought your gambling days were over."

"They are. Have been for more than twenty years."

Henry gestured toward the check. "You're saying someone owed you forty-thousand dollars...for twenty years."

"Trust me, twenty years goes by in a flash. You blink
and 'poof!' it's gone. I swear, one minute I'm..."

"Veda Marie!"

She chuckled. "All right. A friend and I got in over our heads one weekend in Vegas. Already in debt, my friend lost much more than
he could afford to lose. And at one point I was down so low I barely had the bus fare back to Pittsburgh." She winked at Farley. "But I ended that weekend on a blistering hot streak. My dollars doubled, then doubled again and again. It got so I couldn't do anything wrong."

She lit up and exhaled, enjoying her walk back in time.

"We were a pair of fools; I was just the luckier fool. So, I offered to pay off his debts, on the condition that we both quit gambling
- forever. My friend agreed, then sat down and wrote me an IOU on a cocktail napkin. He's offered to honor it many times over the years, but I preferred to wait until I needed the money. Deep down, I think I was afraid I might start
playing the numbers again and end up on the street. Timothy's money was my security."

"Timothy?"

Reaching across the table, Farley picked up the check. It was signed by Timothy England.

The shrill ring of the telephone cut through the animated noise of relieved laughter and chatter.

"That'll be mum." Joe signaled to Farley as she picked up the phone. "Tell her I'm on my way."

Halfway out the door, he heard her cry out.

Paddy chewed his bran cereal as he read the back of the box.

A prize in every box!

You could be one of our lucky winners!

Prizes Galore!

Money! Money! Money!

"See, nothing to worry about," he mumbled. "I'll just eat cereal and the riches will come."

"Dad?"

Paddy stood when he saw Joe's tear-streaked face. God in heaven. He made the sign of the cross.
Father, Son, Holy Ghost.

"Oh, son," he swallowed. "It's our William,
isn't it?"

"He's awake, Dad"

His long legs propped on William's bed, Henry read from a book titled
Fun Medical Facts
. "Did you know it is not possible to
tickle yourself?"

William turned his head toward the window.

"Yeah, even I knew that one." Henry ran his finger down the page. "Did you know that men are twice as likely to contract
leprosy as women?"

Nothing.

"Here's a winner; I'll bet you didn't know that Arriazia is the complete absence of breasts."

"Henry," whispered William, his voice hoarse.
"I want to go home."

He closed the book.

"I know you do, pal. The doctors say it won't be long now. And when you do come home, we're going to have a Merry Christmas, Happy
New Years, and Happy Birthday-to-you party, all in one. Claire and Veda Marie are already planning it. The list on the chalkboard goes all the way to the floor."

With each passing week, William had become more and more
adamant about going home. He would heal better in his own house, he insisted. He emphasized the uncontainable germs potentially lurking in the hospital. Then there was his lack of a consistent sleep pattern; getting a good night's sleep in a hospital was out of the question. But the
real
reason he kept to
himself; he wanted to die at home.

That night, Farley and William watched an old western on the small TV in his hospital room. When his eyes began to close, she quietly
gathered her things and tiptoed toward the door.

His voice was barely a whisper. "They really are there, you know."

She turned, the hairs on the back of her neck rising.
"What did you say?"

"Mom and Dad. They really are watching over us."

Blood pounded in her temples. "Did you see them?"

"I didn't have to. I felt them in my heart."

Billie brought her Mercedes to a stop. A line of elementary school children crossed the road, flanked on all sides by their teachers.
Lowering her sunglasses, Billie reapplied the mole on her cheek and adjusted the scarf around her neck. She was pleased with her new Liz Taylor look. She would have preferred the full riding-in-the-passenger-seat-of-a-red-Mercedes-with-a
handsome-man-who-wore-brown-leather-driving-gloves sort of look, but one thing at a time.

The morning after Halloween she had checked herself into a treatment center upstate. Upon her release she found an apartment on the North Side and the most expensive shrink money could buy.

"Be strong," she whispered, wishing she had never agreed to meet Ham for lunch.

Guilt was new to Billie. Her shrink said feelings of guilt and shame were normal at this point in her therapy as she faced her demons head
on. She assured Billie that even the worst shame could turn to pride if one learned from her mistakes - which was the only reason Billie had agreed to meet Ham for lunch.

"I know why you asked me here," she said, as he
pulled her chair out for her.

"What are you talking about?" Ham blinked innocently. "I just want to see how you're doing."

"That, and address my many transgressions." She
gave him a coy smile. "A
true
gentleman would confess to a few of his own, just to get the ball rolling.

The air filled with the delicious aroma of baking enchiladas
as William opened his gifts and quietly exclaimed over each one. A hospital bed had been installed in the living room, along with a stereo, a television set, and remote control black-out curtains to block out the light.

"Last one," said Farley.

She placed a large white box with a red velvet ribbon on William's lap. The long black cloak he unwrapped was a combination: man's jacket and superhero cape.

"Wow." His voice was still raspy from the
ventilator. "It's stupendous."

"We thought it was time you had a grown-up cloak," said Claire.

"We, my eye," said Veda Marie. "Your aunt
made that cloak all by herself."

"Really?"

Claire blushed and waved a hand. "Really. So don't look too close."

"A grown-up cloak." William smiled; his face free
at last of the unbearable swelling and bruises. "I have been wanting this for all of the years of my life."

"Hello?" Ham opened the front door. "Claire?

Stepping into the foyer, Billie wrinkled her nose.

"It smells like a Mexican armpit in here," she whispered.

"Christ, Billie." Ham shook his head, amazed that
he could ever have had feelings for this woman. "Wait here," he said, switching on a lamp in the formal living area. "I'll only be a minute."

Billie scrutinized her surroundings. Wide staircase, tiled
foyer, tall ceilings, shiny hardwood oak floors. She was impressed. She had written Bridge Manor off as a teardown when she listed it years ago. She picked up a framed photograph of Claire and her noticeably prettier twin sister. Amazing how an extra centimeter here, an overactive gland there determined
one's happiness. Talk about unfair, she thought, sinking into a flowery sofa.

"Eileen misses you, William," said Ham.

"I know, she called me on the phone. She said when she
comes back from camp, you're going on a long trip. Just you and her. She's happy about that."

"I'm happy about it, too," said Ham. He turned to Claire. "Can I borrow you for a minute?"

"We found a solid connection between Lowe & Son Restoration and The Pilgrim Group."

"Oh, Ham!" gasped Claire.

"Someone came forward," he continued, "and
admitted to providing names of potentially vulnerable homeowners to Lowe & Son in exchange for a significant fee. If matters escalated to the point that The Pilgrim Group became involved, she also received an additional bonus."

"She?"

"Billie." His mouth twitched. "Apparently she has been providing information to Lowe & Son for quite some time. She is willing to testify to that fact in a court of law."

Billie Kane stood straight as a poisoned arrow as they entered the room. Claire approached the woman who had caused her family so much pain. So many nights of agonizing worry. The threat of losing their home. The
helplessness. She pressed her lips together. No, she thought. Don't go there; don't give her the satisfaction. Leave the room without saying a word. Take the high road. Claire Sullivan turned to go.

Oh, what the hell. She spun, and smacked Billie Kane across
the face.

Joe handed his father an Iron City and settled onto the sofa. The two men had fallen into a Friday night routine of a few beers at
Paddy's.

"Mum says you got a job as a night watchman at Magee Women's Hospital."

"It's only part-time." Paddy opened his beer. "Still, I'm happy to be earning my own money again."

Joe crunched on a handful of chips and washed them down with half a beer before speaking. "I'm thinking about heading back to school. Community college, anyway. Classes start in less than a month."

"What about your coaching?"

"I lost the taste for it. I'll miss the game, though. Once I get a feel for my classes, I'll join a club league. It will be nice to play for fun again." He smacked Paddy's arm. "So, what do you
think?"

"You know what I think, son. There's nothing more important than an education."

"Glad to hear it." Joe pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it on the coffee table. "I picked up a
registration form for you, too."

On their way to the registrar's office, Joe and Paddy hopped over potholes in the campus parking lot.

"These cars sure aren't as nice as the ones at the university," said Joe.

"Who cares about the cars," said Paddy. "What I want to know is, what's the name of our football team?"

Joe put his arm around his father's shoulders. "It's a community college. We don't have a football team."

Farley tossed a stack of photographs on William's bed. "The Post-Gazette is interested in using some of my photos for their
Sunday magazine. They want shots that reflect the city's transformation. Look through these and tell me which ones you like - and be honest."

William started to say he was always honest; then bit his
lip. He took his time perusing the stack.

"I like the ones of the empty mills and factories," he said. "The shadows make them scary and orderly all at that same time."